


Death Letters

by alluringalois



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Illnesses, Light Angst, M/M, Pneumonia, Unrequited Love, alois is so OC in this oh gosh, ciel never really cares about alois, dismissive ciel, this is more of jim macken talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alluringalois/pseuds/alluringalois
Summary: Before he passed, Alois would write a letter that would go unseen forever.That is, until, the letter is found years later.
Relationships: Ciel Phantomhive/Alois Trancy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Death Letters

_To Lord Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen’s Watchdog, Proprietor of the Funtom Corporation, Phantomhive Manor, London, United Kingdoms; from Lord Alois Trancy, Head of the Trancy Household, Trancy Manor, London, United Kingdoms_

April 12th, 1889

Dear Lord Phantomhive:

My health took a turn for the worse after your departure, Ciel, -- oddly enough, your presence always had an improving effect upon my spirits. Or what remains of them.

I had looked outside my window, and saw three crows standing in a row. This meant death where I was from, and from then on I knew it was for certain; that my grave was already dug. I wouldn’t leave the manor alive, I figured. The delirium only grows stronger by day. The fever is bearable but not for certain, and I have yet to remember the last time I ate. Only God knows how long I have left, if he could answer my dear prayers.

I hope you get to go out this way, too, in the comfort of your own bed. I do not mean you ill at all, though I only wish you the best. It hurts, to lay here and rot with all the time in the world, and too much time to reflect on my earthly sins, but it is peaceful, rather than having a sword to your chest, or a gun to your head. This is my punishment, for the wages of sin is death. Twelve lengthy days of this insufferable pain that could drive even those in good condition to pure insanity.

Despite the concoctions I am dosed with several times a day, brewed by Hannah in the kitchen -- which tastes as vile as all medicines ought to, and which she says will surely help with easing the pain -- I continue much the same; just confined to my bed. I know many have heard of my unfortunate indisposition already. They come poking their noses for answers and begin meddling with my affairs, scrutinizing my plans as to who inherits my wealth, as if I was already dead, and how much of it they shall receive, if any. God forgive me, but I wait for the day that He takes my voice, so that I can no longer speak, and not have to answer their provoking inquiries.

I want to see you well-established before I die -- I suppose it is my wish. I have no heir, being the last of my name. A disgrace, but what did they expect from the bastard? I never asked for my lordship, though you did. I found you best fit. But if you have no purpose for the establishment, then I suppose you burn it, as I had suffered and inflicted too much pain among these walls.

With all this time, I thought to myself frequently. The priest who prayed against my damnation taught me the word of God, as I had no choice to listen -- and I realized that pride and greed were among the greatest sins, and whatever riches you had, you could never take to the grave. I hear that ‘for if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord.’ So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. Forgiveness and repentance are all we have from the burning hellfire. The two of us, Ciel, as we both committed heinous crimes against Him. It was our only choice, was it? Or were we just vengeful children wanting to retaliate against those who took our loved ones, with nothing better in mind? Surely He will forgive us, then?

I want to be forgiven by those I did wrong, including yourself. Even on my deathbed, it would bring a smile to my face if I saw you satisfied at the least, as that is all I did in this life -- satisfying others.

Yours very truly,

_Jim Macken_

_“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4_

_To Lord Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen’s Watchdog, Proprietor of the Funtom Corporation, Phantomhive Manor, London, United Kingdoms; from Lord Alois Trancy, Head of the Trancy Household, Trancy Manor, London, United Kingdoms_

I, Lord Alois ‘Jim’ Trancy, of House Trancy, London, United Kingdoms, revoke all former wills and testamentary dispositions made by me and declare this to be my last will and testament.

I give to Lord Ciel Phantomhive of House Phantomhive absolutely all my real and personal property whatsoever wherever.

Signed,

_Alois Trancy_

__


End file.
